Chuck Vs Systematic Desensitization
by Afficted
Summary: New Intersect Plus Seduction Equals Unexpected Consequences. Part III of Postcard series, follows Chuck Vs. Interdependence. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everybody! I'm back! **

**This is Part III of my Postcard series. It follows after Chuck Vs. Interdependence. **

**We're going to be taking a little roller coaster trip back to angst and misery, though there will be some humor there too. If you feel nauseous, take the little pink tabs or the chalky white stuff. **

**As always, I want to give a huge thank you to my editors, my wife and Anon. **

**And a big thank you as well to everybody who reads and to everybody who reviews. Please, keep reviewing. I appreciate it very much. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anybody or anything in the Chuck universe. **

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The next few days were strange for John Casey.

His external monitoring of the Bartowski apartment had been tense, but not because there had been any kind of real danger. He had almost hoped an attack would occur. It didn't. He kept his senses aware, praying that he wouldn't hear something _horrible_. He hadn't.

Five hours later, Casey was still on his vigil when he finally received a phone call. It was _him_. Casey flipped open the phone, and growled, "Yeah?"

A tired Chuck answered, "We're good, Casey. Thanks."

Casey grunted and hung up the phone. Then he went back into his apartment to get seriously drunk.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning arrived with its requisite hangover.

Casey stumbled out of his bedroom to find a bag of fresh bagels and lox spread out for him on his kitchen counter. Next to that was a Grande coffee. Black.

Casey considered going over and throttling them for breaking into his apartment, but it would be too much effort, and besides, he was hungry. He wondered what they'd ask of him next. Perhaps, they'd plead for him to buy massage oils for them because they were too embarrassed? He gulped down his coffee and ate his breakfast.

He did not want to see them today. They were going to be insufferable, making goo-goo eyes at each other and all that. They would probably also be all over him, wanting to share their newfound happiness. Two bullets would take care of that, except that it would wreck his career, and he'd have difficulty taking down the Ring alone. Besides, he actually _liked_ them. Damn it.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After showering and dressing, he steeled himself for the saccharine. A deep breath and Casey walked out into the day.

The three met at the downtown office building that was going to comprise the new headquarters. On the drive over, Casey had rehearsed the various insults in his repertoire to use the moment they started their sugary barrage.

When he arrived, Bartowski and Walker were casually chatting while beginning to set up furniture.

They turned to him, wished him a good morning, and asked if he could assist in moving a table.

Their faces were neutral. They didn't bring up anything else, but went back to their work.

Casey opened his mouth to make a comeback. Then realized he didn't have anything to comeback against. Confused, he helped move the table.

The rest of the day went like that.

Bartowski and Walker were acting... _normal_. Well, not exactly normal. Normal for them was taking longing glances at the other while the other's back was turned. They weren't doing that. Neither did they seem excessively tensed or relaxed. They were friendly to each other, but the space between the two of them hadn't grown or shrunk.

Casey wasn't about to address the matter of the previous day directly, but he did try out his usual putdowns toward Chuck.

Normally, Chuck would shoot back something sarcastic. Or he would sulk. Not this time. This time, he gave a small smile or chuckle, and said, "That's pretty funny." If it was a criticism, the response would be, "You're right, Casey. I'll work on that." There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Casey was starting to get pissed off.

He finally turned to them both and said, "So, you're just gonna act like nothing happened, yesterday?"

Bartowski and Walker stopped, exchanged glances, and then turned to Casey. "Why, Casey?" Chuck calmly asked. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Walker's lips turned up into the slightest hint of a smile.

Casey's teeth gritted, a low growl emerging from him. Bartowski and Walker kept his gaze, both appearing perfectly innocent.

Casey turned on his heel and walked out of the office.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

His two partners acted pretty much exactly the same during the coming days.

It just wasn't natural.

Walker was practiced at hiding her emotions, but she had just consummated two years of pent-up feelings. Even for her, it would be hard not to show anything in her face. And Chuck? Chuck was raw emotion with skin stitched over it. Casey had expected him to be bouncing all over the place, singing folk music or something. The normal Chuck would be passing out flowers to strangers on the street, and would tell Casey what a beautiful day it was, even if the smog had come in and started choking everybody. Instead, he took Casey's abuse more gamely than he ever had before. Training had resumed, and Casey had Chuck work on cardio, strengthening, and flexibility exercises, because Casey was convinced that if he tried teaching Bartowski fighting techniques at this time, the bigger man would truly kill the smaller one.

He wondered briefly if Bartowski and Walker had changed their minds and decided on the friends route, after all.

Nope. That wasn't it.

They'd promised to be quiet the first time.

That wasn't the case for later times. Not that they were waking up the neighborhood or anything, but every now and then - even though it was only faint - Casey heard something. Something _horrible_. He would then turn Neil up very loudly and would get drunk. Again.

Casey thought it was a good thing that Bartowski was going to get him a bottle of scotch every week. Casey was going to need it. He began to plan his path to full-fledged alcoholism, culminating in liver failure. He would curse Bartowski and Walker as he breathed his last.

It was a good plan.

Forestalling the plan, Casey began intensifying Chuck's training, making the exercise regimes more exhausting. Chuck was breathing hard, obviously in great discomfort, but he never complained. Never. He didn't even make any jokes about it. He just did what he was told.

Once, Walker casually complimented Casey on his training, saying that Chuck was going to quickly get into very good shape due to the Colonel. Casey gave her a withering glare. She just shrugged and went about her business.

Casey then increased the hours of the regimen, having Chuck work until 1 or 2 in the morning. Neither Bartowski nor Walker questioned this. Chuck just nodded, said, "You're the boss", and kept going.

However, no matter how late they got home, Bartowski and Walker would make up for lost time.

Casey realized that this was a battle of wills.

And the enemy was winning.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning arrived in a haze of nausea.

Casey stumbled out of bed and went through his morning routine, while desperately wishing he could die.

Still, this was the day the new Castle would be fully up to snuff and ready, and there was a conference with the General awaiting, so Casey couldn't die just then. It didn't fit in to his schedule.

He drove himself. Bartowski and Walker were always driving together now.

Fine with him.

He made it Downtown without crashing into anything, either accidentally or on purpose.

Entering from a warehouse two blocks down from the office, Casey made his way from the secret entrance into the Castle proper.

There they were. Not doing anything illicit. Not even talking about anything relationship-like such as floral arrangements.

No, they were just talking about work, and what new assignment the General might have for them. Chuck waved a hello to Casey, and Walker nodded toward the Colonel and smiled.

Casey didn't acknowledge their greeting. Why should he? They were going to kill him. He knew the truth now. First they would drive him insane. Then, they were going to give him alcohol poisoning. He wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of a hello.

So, instead, he took a seat behind them. He would have sat in front of them, but first, he didn't trust having them see him when he couldn't see them. Second, they were sitting in the front row.

Shortly after that, Casey thought that it might be a good idea to stop the drinking before it made him paranoid. Besides, showing up to work with a hangover was unprofessional. He was better than that.

At that moment, the monitor activated and General Beckman was there.

"Hello, Team. You all look to be in good - Er... Colonel, are you all right? You appear a bit pale."

Casey muttered, "I am in perfect health, General. I've never been better. I'm looking forward to the next assignment." _Please let it be a violent one. __  
_  
Beckman furrowed her brows, appearing to question Casey's claim to "perfect health".

"Well, then let's get to it. This" - she clicked a picture onto the side of the monitor - "is Langus Greene. He's a mid-level attorney at the State Department. We've gotten word that Mr. Greene may have had connection to recently-identified Fulcrum Elders. Mr. Greene apparently has an iPhone, always in his possession. There is no wireless connection. In fact, our check into his records indicates that he has never made or received any calls from this phone. If he keeps it off, that makes it difficult to hack. It is possible that he might only be using that phone as a receptacle for encoded storage data. Yes, Agent Walker?"

"General, no disrespect intended, but wouldn't it seem unlikely that this man would carry sensitive data around with him on a phone?"

Beckman opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Chuck.

"Mind if I answer this one, General?"

Casey gnashed his teeth, and the General looked annoyed, but she closed her mouth.

Chuck smiled conspiratorially and leaned back, his hands behind his head. "It is _amazing_ how careless some people are with sensitive information. Speaking as a guy who has had to work on tons of phones and computers and seen things that I was _never_ supposed to see-"

Sarah raised an eyebrow. She appeared _very_ interested.

Chuck flushed. "Not that I was specifically _looking_ for those things, mind you. Some folks just leave the strangest stuff on their desktop." He pulled at his collar a little bit to get some air. Then, apparently deciding the best course of action would be to change the subject, "General, I assume that the reason you're not getting a warrant or just bringing Greene in for questioning is because you don't want the Ring aware that we're going after it?"

"Correct. We don't know how far the Ring has spread into the legitimate infrastructure, so we have to be careful about our overt inquiries. Once we get some names, that might just lead us to bigger fish."

"Cool", Chuck nodded, then he remembered who he was speaking to. "Er, Ma'am. So, how do you want us to go about getting the phone?"

A new picture of a bar flashed on the screen. Beckman said, "The tavern is in D.C. His office is a ten-minute drive away, and this is where he frequents to pick up women who are not his wife. We will fly the three of you back to D.C. Agent Walker will secure the phone, and Colonel Casey and Mr. Bartowski will manually obtain the phone data, while Walker keeps Greene distracted through her seduction skills."

The bodies of Walker and Bartowski froze up, simultaneously. They turned and looked at each other, their eyes wide.

"Is there something wrong?" The General frowned.

For the first time in days, a smile found its way onto Colonel John Casey's face.

_The natural order of things returns._

_Heh. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Howdy. Thanks for all the positive feelings for Chapter 1! Let's see what I can do to squander those, shall I? **

**Seriously, thanks all for reading and for the reviews. As always, please keep 'em coming.**

**I do not own anybody or anything in the world of Chuck.**

**Kudos to editors supreme – My wife and Anon! **

**________________________________________________________________________**

"Thanks Ellie. Yeah, I'll call when we touch down. Love you too."

Hanging up the phone, Chuck returned to helping Sarah with the packing.

"Any problems?" Sarah glanced at him briefly while multitasking.

"Well, it's a good thing we've got the contractor excuse to work with, otherwise, I think my sister would wonder how we can be traveling so much lately."

The new work cover would be advantageous. Their new "business" was to provide database application services, primarily for government and non-profit projects. Chuck obviously had the aptitudes for such work. Given their previous covers, it was a little harder to swing this for Sarah and Casey. Both would have to emphasize their sales background, limited though it might at first appear. Sarah would serve as the marketing / public relations arm of the business. Casey had some preexisting military contacts in D.C., which would be consistent with a development cover. On the face of it, the contracts would go on their records as legit, and they could be audited without problem. What one didn't know from skimming the surface, was that these contracts were actually broken up piecemeal then were being outsourced to various Asian countries, the finished product compiled and returned to Burbank. Free trade at work.

Unlike the previous situation, the three would have very little to do for the cover jobs. All of their time could be focused on missions and training, as Beckman had devised.

Finishing up with one suitcase, Sarah decided it was time for a break. She sat on the bed, and patted the spot next to her, while motioning to Chuck. He quickly joined her.

However, the serious expression on her face communicated that this wasn't for the purpose of fooling around.

"Are you sure you're up for this, Chuck?"

"The mission? Absolutely. I've been looking forward to it."

Sarah raised her eyebrows.

"I have!" Chuck insisted.

"Chuck," she put her hand on his leg, "Since getting together, we've been doing really well so far in keeping things professional on the job. But this mission is going to be the proving ground."

"I know, Sarah. I know!" It seemed like he was trying to make his voice sound flippant.  
"You have to take this seriously. You know what this is going to require."

"Sarah, I know. You'll have a mark. You gotta distract him. I've been there."

"I know you've watched this before. And I know that it hasn't been easy for you. But you've got to keep it together, OK? Just remember that I don't give a rat's ass about this guy, that I'm just doing it for the mission, and then I'm coming home to you. All right?"

Chuck had been nodding continuously since the first sentence, impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah. Sarah, I got it. Really, it will be fine, OK? Stop worrying about me, really."

Sarah looked at him nervously, but then whispered "OK." and gave Chuck a soft kiss. The kiss escalated, and as it turned out, the break was longer than planned.

________________________________________________________________________

The trip was for two days, three nights. The intention was to meet Greene on the first night, and have the rest of the time for necessary follow-up on leads obtained.

So following the flight, hotel check-in, dinner and Beckman check-in, the three made their way to the Tavern Ameasus, arriving shortly after 10 p.m. The place was sufficiently crowded, but not so much so that watching for specific persons was an impossibility. It was just that here, it was easier to do so inconspicuously.

Sarah had arrived in a separate vehicle, entering a half-hour earlier as planned. Chuck and Casey followed later, purchased a couple beers and pulled themselves up to a two-seat round table.

Greene was known for consistent arrival usually just prior to midnight. The three had sufficient time to scope out the place for any possible threats. Chuck flashed on nothing, though.

Casey had seated them so that his back was away from the bar and the dance floor where Sarah was standing. So, it was that Chuck had to be the one to keep an eye on her.

That wasn't so much the problem. The problem was that he was having difficulty keeping his eyes off her.

As usual, she would be stunning in whatever she wore. However, when she was made up to attract as she was this evening, Chuck found it difficult to keep his brain in check.

"Hey, Shmuck. Y'wanna be subtle, you might want to try to look away for a few seconds at a time. Use your peripheral vision, why don'tcha?"

Chuck's face flushed with annoyance, which warmed Casey's heart in return.

"Hey, Casey, it's not as if I'm the only one. Every guy in the place is watching her."

"Not me," replied Casey, sipping his drink.

"Yeah, well, you're obviously dead."

"Aw, you hurt my feelings. I just know that workplace romances are to be avoided."

Chuck sneezed out something that sounded a lot like "Carina". Casey ignored it.

"Anyway," Chuck said, "If you didn't want me ogling my girlfriend, why'd you seat us this way? You could have been the one watching her."

"Sure, but I'm not the one who's in training here. The point is, you're supposed to be the one watching Walker for the signal. When she gives it, you're gonna walk by her, and she's going to hand you the goods. That is, if you can somehow manage to not get noticed by a crowd of people who all look better than you."

Chuck rolled his eyes.

Casey added, "And watching you squirm as all those better-looking guys make a play for your girl makes it all worth it."

"Oh, well, that's just... That's-"

"C'mon, c'mon, spit it out."

"I do not squirm!"

"Squirmer."

"You.... I...." Chuck crossed his arms. "You're distracting me. I need to be watching Sarah."

Casey moved his seat over slightly to give Chuck a better view. He chuckled. Life was good.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

The next hour passed rather uneventfully, except for the fact that Sarah was picked up on multiple times. She turned down a couple of people, but accepted drinks and dances from others, presumably so she wouldn't give the impression that she was waiting for anybody, specific. She did not leave with anybody, of course.

Chuck knew she wouldn't, but his nerves still flared whenever a new man would approach her. And these men weren't even the mark. For Greene, she would have to do some serious charming, and potentially go much further if she was to keep him distracted enough to palm the phone, hand it off, and keep him from being aware of its absence until Chuck and Casey had gotten what they needed.

Finally, Greene arrived. Chuck was unhappy to see that while the man didn't quite have the appearance and physique to match the best in the bar, he was actually much better-looking than his picture had indicated. He had a chin cleft and an Errol Flynn moustache. Greene had a suave, confident air about him. Chuck also imagined that Greene's hair never made funny animal shapes.

"He cleans up well," observed Casey. Chuck said nothing in response.

Sarah, of course, wasn't about to approach Greene. Being the best looking woman in the bar, she wouldn't need to, assuming Greene was arrogant enough to think he had a chance. His profile indicated that he was, indeed, that arrogant.

Sarah turned down two more propositions before her mark finally approached her.

"We have contact", muttered Chuck.

"All right," said Casey. "Any tongues, yet?"

Chuck slammed down his glass on the table. Casey laughed, "Easy boy. You can try attacking me later if you want. Eyes on the prize."

Casey, thankfully, decided to cool it for awhile and stopped ribbing. Chuck watched for the next hour, his thoughts, unpleasant ones.

_OK, this is clearly not going to be as easy as I thought it was going to be. That's all right. Just need to stay in control. Stay... in control._

_She's doing that laugh thing she does when she tilts her head back and makes eye contact while moving aside a strand of her hair._

_I love it when she does that with me._

_She's doing that with him. OK, that's OK. It is an act. Just. An. Act._

_Now she's coyly playing with her stirring straw, looking down, looking up at him. Smiling. Giving him the look. THE look. Hi, you want me big boy? I am right here. RIGHT here for the taking._

_And she's making a suggestion. Some kind of joke. Innuendo? Sure, because innuendo isn't just for the males to give anymore. A grown woman can make innuendos. All the ladies are doing it._

_And now they're going on the dance floor. That's OK. She's not doing the Lambada with Bryce. This isn't Bryce. She loved Bryce. She loves me now. She doesn't love this guy. She doesn't like this guy. She is not going to do the Lambada with this guy._

_OK, she's not doing the Lambada just a very... VERY close slow dance. That's all right. That's what she needs to do, she needs to get close enough to him so she can pick his pocket for the iPhone. There is no need for alarm. No need for-_

_OK, now he is making a move, and is actually nuzzling her neck. That's a daring move for a woman you've just met, I think. And from her face, she's getting into it. That's OK. It is an act. Yes, she loves being nuzzled. That does not mean that it is genuine for him. It is genuine for me, yes. Not for him, not for-_

_This really bites. Please, Sarah, would you get the damned phone so I don't have to watch this anymore? Really, this is not- This is awful. I don't want to watch you doing this. It's like tor-_

__________________________________________________________________________

He knew that Chuck was supposed to be the one watching, but even so, Casey had gradually turned his head around just to take a little peek at the proceedings. Not a problem. Nobody was really looking at him, anyway. This was the time of night where the tavern was at its most full. There they were. Yup, Walker had managed to reel 'em in, as always. The guy was going for the neck. Poor Bartowski must be losing it. Casey shook his head. Oh, there it was; she grabbed for the mark's behind. Greene was clearly enjoying it. What a douche. A moment later Walker had rotated herself on the spot, and just for a millisecond her eyes moved to their table.

Casey waited for Chuck to say something. Chuck didn't. Damn it, the kid was supposed to have noticed that! Stupid-

Casey murmured, "No time to fall asleep at the wheel, Dumbass. Get a move on."

Chuck didn't get up.

He hadn't said anything for awhile.

Casey turned to him at the table. "Hey, Bartowski, I said-"

Casey stopped.

Bartowski's eyes were still looking in the direction of Walker. But they were glazed over.

Chuck had a little smile on his face.

"Bartowski? Hey, Chuck!" Looking around very fast, hoping they wouldn't be noticed, Casey snapped his fingers in front of Chuck's face.

Chuck didn't even flinch.

"Oh shit", Casey whispered.

________________________________________________________________________


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi all. Well, we've had some laughs, haven't we?**

**Time for some ANGST and MISERY!!!**

**Thanks to blessed editors, Anon and my wife, the latter of who pretty much wrote the technical paragraph. Because I know nothing technical.**

**I own nothing of this fine series called **_**Chuck**_**. **

**And now, put on your seat belts.**

**We're going down.**

**________________________________________________________________________**

"Oh Shit," whispered Casey.

The Colonel did another quick look-around. Nobody seemed any the wiser of him or of Bartowski. Walker was still dancing, and probably waiting for Chuck to brush by her.

Casey considered his options. He could approach Walker, himself, and get the iPhone. Chuck would be alone in his seat for a minute, tops.

A minute would be all that was necessary for an enemy to kill or take Chuck.

Casey had no idea how Chuck had gotten into this state. There didn't appear to be anything physically wrong with him. Casey surreptitiously grabbed Chuck's drink and scanned it by sight and smell.

Nothing there, and why would somebody drug Chuck, and not Casey?

Casey didn't see any physical sign of damage. Granted, he couldn't do a thorough search right here. It was possible Chuck might have been hit by a tiny dart.

Shit. He couldn't risk it. Casey didn't like leaving Walker in the lurch, but she really could take care of herself if things fell apart, and she, herself, would kill him if he left Chuck alone there.

Casey gave one more quick glance at Walker. _Don't move. I'll be back. _

Then he casually got to his feet and walked over to Chuck. This was going to look awkward. He was going to have to pretend that Chuck was drunk to the point of passing out. The illusion would be much easier to pull off if Chuck's eyes were closed.

Casey put one hand on Chuck's right underarm and pulled up.

To his surprise, Chuck stood up.

Casey looked at the Asset's face again. "Chuck?"

No response. Chuck's face was still glazed with the little smile.

_What the Hell?_

Casey whispered, "OK, Bartowski, I don't know what you're pulling here, but come with me."

He pulled on Chuck's arm. Chuck followed. His gait seemed relaxed but controlled. Not intoxicated.

They walked toward the exit. Only one person said something. "Hey man, can I have whatever he's on?"

Casey gave the slightest of smiles in acknowledgement and quickly got Chuck out the door.

The car they had borrowed was only fifty feet away. They got inside with no problem.

Casey sat Chuck down in the passenger seat. "OK, now you just stay right-"

Chuck raised his head and said, "Hm?"

Casey yelped and would have fallen backwards if not for the seatback.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

A few people in the parking lot glanced at the car before going about their business.

Chuck's expression was confused. "When did we come back to the car?" Then, more concerned, "Where's Sarah?"

Casey was beside himself. He opened his mouth to yell at Bartowski, but then remembered.

"I'll be right back. YOU! Stay in the car!"

Chuck's look became peevish. "Aw, c'mon, we agreed I wouldn't have to-"

Casey grabbed Chuck by the collar and pulled Chuck to him so their noses were almost touching.

"Stay in the _fucking_ CAR!"

"OK," Chuck squeaked.

Casey turned around and tried to be casual while walking _very_ fast, thinking, _I'm gonna kill him. I am just going to-_

Casey cleared the entrance. She was still there. Still dancing with Greene. The whole thing hadn't yet gone to pot.

Keeping his breath calm, Casey walked on the dance floor, thankful that you had to do that to get to the restroom. He scooted by Walker, brushing her side with his fingers. Sure enough, he felt a small object shoved into his hand. A second later, that object had vanished within his coat. He kept going, and entered the restroom. He washed his hands briskly, then made his way back out. He found Walker and Greene making their way back to the bar. For the briefest of seconds, Walker turned her head and looked at Casey. The glance was calm, but there was the slightest hint of something. He guessed what was on her mind.

Too bad. He and Chuck had things to do. That was if Bartowski didn't funk out on him again.

Casey exited the bar for the second time, knowing in his gut that Chuck wasn't going to be there when he arrived.

Amazingly, Casey was wrong. Chuck was there, waiting. Casey thought he'd have to use sharper language in the future. It seemed to work.

"Where's Sarah?" First words to come out of Chuck's mouth, of course.

"She's still with Greene; it's fine." Pulling out the phone and shoving it in Chuck's face, Casey growled, "Flash."

"Well, I've gotta turn it _on_, first. Jeez."

Casey snarled and stepped out of the vehicle, closing the door. He leaned against the hood, trying to appear casual.

In the car, Chuck turned on the phone. The screen came up and immediately there was a prompt for a password.

"Oh! Well, um, let's see. 'Ilikeblondes'?" He smiled, while typing it in.

Chuck knew this wasn't the password, of course. He knew he was going to get a rejection, and then have to hack past the password.

What Chuck didn't expect was thousands of images to start flashing on the screen in front of him. Directly into his brain.

Only five minutes had passed when the screen went dark, and Chuck was able to pull the phone away from himself, yelling, "CRAP!"

Casey yanked the door open. "What?"

"Booby-trap. The bastard had a mini-Intersect rigged to his phone! Ow, my head!"

Casey's mouth dropped open. It was a good thing he hadn't been looking at the phone, himself. "Are you OK?"

"Ow. I need aspirin, but yeah, I'll be fine. This stuff doesn't put the whammy on me like it used to. This is the test Intersect that Fulcrum was using in the suburbs. Not the underground one. The one on the PC in the house. Just what I need. More Fulcrum stuff in my head. Now, I'm gonna have to shower. Anyway, I guess this confirms that Greene is Fulcrum."

Casey shook his head. "If he was just Fulcrum, he'd be dead. This confirms he's Ring."

Chuck's stomach dropped. "And Sarah's in there with him."

"Can you hack into the thing now?" When Chuck nodded, Casey said, "Then do it. As I said, Walker can take care of herself."

It took a half-hour. Chuck scrolled through the applications and found an app that looked unfamiliar, but that wasn't surprising considering how many apps there were out there. Still, he thought he'd give it a try. When he pressed the icon, and it prompted him for another password, he thought he was getting close. He jacked it into his laptop and ran it through his Linux code breaker software, and got in after several minutes. It was just run-of-the-mill bank codes, Chuck assumed for money laundering. Or perhaps, the guy was just loaded. He scrolled again, found another possible target app. Not what he was looking for. After a few more trials, an opened app prompted a password again. He performed his magic, and this time, he hit paydirt. Rows of encoded data filled the screen. He flashed and scrolled and flashed again. He was surprised he could flash after the Fulcrum Intersect trap. When he was finished, he reset the mini-Intersect, so Greene would be none the wiser.

He opened the door, "I got 'em."

Casey said, "You're gonna need to write them down."

"No, I've got them. Here." He pointed to his head. "They're not going anywhere. I'll write 'em down when we're back at the hotel. Let's return the phone."

"Stay in the-"

"I am not staying in the car! I'm supposed to be in training! I need to be the one to get this back to her!"

Casey scowled.

"Don't screw it up."

The two walked back to the bar.

When Chuck and Casey reentered the place, Walker and Greene were back on the dance floor. They were making out.

Casey muttered. "Ah, there's the tongue I was talking about. 'K, Asswipe. This is your chance to get it right this time. Brush past her and return the phone to her hand."

No response.

Casey looked back. Now, Chuck was standing still, staring straight at Walker. Once again, his eyes were glazed, the little smile on his lips.

It was all Casey could do not to scream in Chuck's face. _Sonuva BITCH! Aw, screw this._

The Colonel sat Chuck down, conveniently at the same table they had been sitting at earlier.

Then, Casey got up to approach Walker, leaving Chuck at the table.

If the Ring or Fulcrum or the CIA or the Mafia wanted to make a play for the Asset now, they were welcome to him, as far as Casey was concerned.

The latest pass went fine. Walker was able to grab the phone back in spite of seeming fully focused on her tonsil hockey. Casey made his bathroom entry and exit, and returned to Chuck, almost disappointed to find the Asset still there, blissfully unaware.

This time, nobody commented when the two men exited and got into the car.

Chuck woke up almost the second they got inside the car. Confused, he said, "Wait, weren't we just in the bar?"

Casey whacked Chuck across the forehead with an open palm.

Chuck yelled, "HEY!"

"Shut up." Casey didn't look at Bartowski as they drove back to their hotel.

________________________________________________________________________

Over the next couple of hours, Casey supervised Chuck writing out and explaining the information, while the two waited for their partner.

It was a bit past 3 a.m. when Agent Walker returned to the hotel.

She had a worried expression on her face.

She looked at Chuck and then gasped at the red bruise on his forehead.

"What happened?" she asked rushing over to him.

"Hey, it's nothing," Chuck mumbled.

"I did that," growled Casey. "Your boyfriend is useless."

Sarah turned to Casey angrily. "Why-"

"Ask _him_ why!" sneered the Colonel.

Sarah stared at Chuck. "What happened? Were you unable to flash on the contents?"

Chuck said, "I did, and we were able to get what we wanted. So far, we've found some more leads on Fulcrum, almost nothing on the Ring as yet, though we're sure Greene at least is Ring since he's not dead."

"Well, then I don't get it. Casey, you can't blame him if there's no other Ring info there."

"That's not the problem. Did you wonder why your boy here wasn't the one to get and return the card to you as planned?"

Sarah said, "Well, yeah, but I figured it was just a switch you two made at last minute."

Casey looked at Chuck. "Tell her."

"Um, apparently, something happened to me both times while we were at the bar."

"What?"

"I think I may have, um, flashed."

"On what?"

"Not entirely sure. After initially scoping out the place, the only thing I really recall looking at was you and Greene."

Sarah was confused. "Well, what did you see when you flashed?"

"Well, it was kind of hard to remember at first, but, I think I saw a really nice beach and I was drinking a pina colada."

Sarah stared at Chuck. "Huh?"

Casey interrupted. "Chuck, here, kinda blanked out. He was staring out into space, was unresponsive, and he had this cute little grin on his face." The last part was said in an obnoxious high-pitched tone.

Sarah gasped again. "You're kidding."

"No. I'm not. He did it twice. Both times when we were in that bar."

"Well, was he drugged?"

"No. He was able to walk fine with a little push, and the moment we'd get back to the car, he'd snap out of it. Completely normal."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would the Intersect do that to him? What kind of benefit does that give?"

Chuck shrugged. "Honestly, I have no idea."

Casey looked out the hotel window, thoughtful. "He was in a trance. Why would a person go into a trance? And having the Intersect show him drinking on a beach? I mean the only benefit from doing something like that would be if you were trying to resist tor-"

All three of them froze.

Casey and Sarah both looked at Chuck, wide-eyed.

"Torture," Casey finished.

Sarah's mouth dropped open. Her face was turning red. "Chuck, you said you were looking at Greene and me?"

Chuck nodded slowly, color draining from his face.

"What was going through your mind when you were looking at us? Were you thinking about being tortured?"

Chuck bit his lower lip, his eyes growing wider by the second. He tried to look anywhere but at Sarah, and then said in a voice two octaves too high. "No?"

Sarah started to tremble, her hands balling into fists. "Casey," she choked out.

Casey threw up his hands. "I'm out of here. He's all yours."

Casey walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"God damn it, Chuck," she muttered.

Then she roared, "GOD DAMN IT!"

Chuck didn't say anything at first. He was trying to assimilate what had happened. He knew he was in a ridiculous amount of trouble. The last time Sarah had gotten this angry was when Chuck had found out about her past against her wishes, and wouldn't stop pushing. That time, she had broken a picture frame with a hurled pencil. He didn't want to think about what she was going to do now.

Well, he had to say _something_.

"Sarah, it was the Intersect. I couldn't control it."

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" She lessened her volume then, perhaps realizing that they were probably going to start getting complaints from the other hotel patrons soon. "This was our first mission after we got together! This was the time to show that we could handle being a couple and to not let it interfere with missions! And you blew it!"

Chuck started to talk fast. "Sarah, the mission wasn't blown. We got what we were after! No harm was done. Nobody was hurt. The phone got returned, with Greene and the Ring none the wiser, right?"

"Luck! You put us all in a vulnerable position. Anyone or all of us could have been killed."

"But we weren't! It went fine!" Chuck's desperation was seeping into his voice.

Sarah crossed her arms. Her expression toward him was venomous.

"And you think I was torturing you."

_Oh, Dear God, _Chuck thought.

"Sarah, I was not. It was the Intersect. The Intersect, Sarah."

"COME OFF IT!" If Sarah had been concerned about volume, she was past it. "The Intersect wouldn't have done that, if you hadn't thought-"

"Sarah, I did not think you were torturing me! I mean, I thought it was like torture, but-"

Sarah let out a strangled laugh.

"Thanks for clarifying."

"Sarah-"

"You said you could _handle_ it! 'Oh, I can handle it, Sarah, no problem!'"

Chuck wondered why people imitating him would always use a sing-song falsetto.

"Hey, I've responded much worse than this, before," Chuck retorted. In the past, I've - I've charged boats. I've dropped expensive bottles of wine and been evicted from clubs."

Sarah cried out, "And this time you only went into a catatonic STUPOR!"

She was clenching and unclenching her fists spasmodically.

"I thought you trusted me. I've given myself to you. I've opened myself up to you. You don't trust me at all."

"Sarah, I do trust you. I'm telling you, it was the Intersect."

Screaming shrilly, "THE INTERSECT _YOU_ PUT BACK INTO YOUR HEAD! If not for that Intersect, we'd be able to be together. Normal. And I wouldn't have to flirt with god damned marks all the time, and _torture_ you, would I?"

Chuck put his face in his hands. This had all gone downhill. Horribly downhill. They were back to the initial problem. The whole thing was getting hopeless.

Finally, he looked up in a soft voice and said, "Sarah, I'm not perfect. I trust you. But I don't think there is a guy on the planet who could watch the woman he loves getting... romantic with another guy, and be completely comfortable with that. I wasn't going to interfere, though. I didn't deliberately screw this up, please believe me."

Sarah crossed her arms again, "So what are we supposed to do now, huh? That's a useful new talent you have. You can resist torture. I just need to make out with the guy doing the torture!"

"Sarah, that's..." He thought for a moment. "I think- I think you've just given me an idea."

___________________________________________________________________________________________

While Chuck Bartowski was explaining his idea, the expression on the face of Sarah Walker was growing progressively sour.

"That is simply degrading," she said.

Chuck seemed perplexed. "I don't understand. You've seduced people plenty of times."

"For my job, Chuck. I'm doing it for my job. There's a big difference between that and my boyfriend asking me to do it."

"Sarah, I'm not asking you to do this because I'm going to get any kind of kick out of it. I'm going to hate it."

"Oh, so then you're asking me to torture you. I don't want to torture you, though I'm thinking it might be nice to beat the living shit out of you."

She wasn't serious about that, though the tone of her voice might have given Chuck a different impression. She couldn't believe he was suggesting this. Insult on top of injury.

"Sarah," Chuck sighed. "Please, I'm not... Let me explain again? Please?"

She stood with her arms crossed, giving him the implied go-ahead to put a positive spin on the unpalatable.

Chuck took a deep breath. "I told you. Consciously, I don't want to let any... any jealous feelings I have interfere with missions, OK? I know in my head, I know that I can trust you. I love you. I don't believe here-" He pointed to his head again - "that you are going to do anything with these guys. But as I've said, much as I know that, it is still hard to watch. My feelings go a little haywire. And, I guess, the Intersect just picks that up, and maybe it gets confused or something. My point is, I can't control it. We're just learning what this new Intersect does, and I guess, maybe it ties more into my thoughts or emotions. What's happened here seems to prove that. Now, like you, I don't want what happened tonight to happen again. I know how dangerous that is, and I know it hurts you, OK? I know that, and I'm sorry for that, though technically, it's not entirely under my control."

Sarah just kept looking at him. Her mood didn't seem to be improving, but neither was she stopping him from continuing.

"I know there are going to be other missions where you are going to have to seduce a mark. I don't want to jeopardize those missions again." He took another breath. "We need to nip this in the bud as soon as possible. I don't think any of us wants Beckman finding out what happened, and there's no reason that she should. Like I said, we got what we were looking for, no harm done, right?"

Sarah paused, then said, "No harm done to the mission. I can't say the same for you and me."

Chuck grimaced. "Sarah, please, I want to fix this. I can't do it without your help. I want us to be OK. For us to be OK, I gotta make sure this doesn't happen again. I think we can fix that by just dealing with it head on."

Sarah said, "You want to watch me seduce people. Over and over."

"Yes. Systematic Desensitization. I learned about it in college. For people with phobias, you gradually expose them to the source of the fear, until they acclimate to it."

"I know what it is, Chuck. But the thing is, it's not something you can normally do in one night. You need to learn relaxation techniques to help you with the desensitizing process, and its for phobias, not for getting used to your girlfriend picking up GUYS!"

Chuck winced as her voice raised on the last part. He said, "I know that none of this is how it normally works, but I think its worth a try. We'll have this next evening to go out. Casey can be with us to monitor me. We'll go to a few bars and we'll do this until I can handle watching you without blanking out."

Sarah didn't bother hiding the disgust on her face.

Chuck cried out, "Sarah, I don't know how else to fix this!"

"You could try to just get _over_ it."

"OK, fine. But what if I can't? I thought I could handle it before we went to the tavern. What if I think I can handle it the next time, and I'm wrong again? I've just put all of us and the mission in danger, and the end result will probably not be as good."

Sarah said in a cold voice, "I've got an idea, Chuck. You want something to snap you out of it? Maybe, I should just screw Casey in front of you."

Chuck's face crumpled.

Sarah stood up. "Go to sleep. We'll talk about this later."

She picked up her coat.

"Where are you going?", his voice was almost a whine.

"Out. I need the space. Don't follow me. I'll see you later."

And she left.

Chuck found himself slipping slowly backward on the bed, and slipping into despair.

________________________________________________________________________

When she left, Sarah walked across the hall and knocked on the door of Casey's apartment.

A blurry-eyed Colonel came to the door, grumbling under his breath. "What?"

"Can we switch places, just for tonight? I can't be in the same room with him right now."

Casey groaned, "Ah crap, he's gonna want to talk to me about his feelings again!"

"He's pretty tired right now. Maybe he won't even notice you enter the room. If he tries to talk to you, you can always refuse. I just need a little time."

"Should have known you getting together with him would come back to kick you in the crotch."

She put her face in her hands. "Please do this before I have to kick _you_ in the crotch."

Casey flashed a grim smile, then stepped aside so she could enter his room. She passed him her key.

Sighing, the Colonel made his way across the hall and soon was out of sight.

Sarah dropped down on the unkempt mattress. She had left her toothbrush in the other room, but she was too exhausted to brush her teeth anyway.

Tired as she was, the chaos of her mind wouldn't relent.

A week. They had only had one week of happiness together.

Then this shit had to come down.

Sarah had known that a relationship with Chuck wouldn't always feel like a honeymoon, of course. She'd heard that even normal relationships weren't always like that. And, as both of them were constantly painfully reminded, neither of them was normal. They were in a relationship that Sarah had tried to resist for all the right reasons. Just because she had finally given in didn't mean those reasons had gone away. They were risking everything to be together. Their happiness, her job, even national security, for God's sake. And their lives.

Sarah's biggest nightmare was that her feelings for Chuck given full expression would make her slip up at just the wrong moment, and Chuck would die. She didn't think she could bear staying alive if that were to occur.

In spite of that, she had given in. She couldn't fight it anymore. And although she knew the demons were out there, waiting for them, it had been worth the risk. She was ready for the challenges.

However, she never imagined this particular challenge taking place.

Sarah had known many men, both casually and otherwise. Not a single one, including her father, had been trustworthy. They all wanted something. Quite a number had professed their love for her, but there was always an alternate motivation there, a selfishness. Usually, they wanted her body.

Sarah had felt Chuck fall under her spell from the moment that she met him. He was devastated by her beauty, she could see that. She knew he wanted her immediately.

What surprised her was another pure feeling that came with the desire, and soon eclipsed the desire, entirely. As she watched how he interacted with her, and stared into his eyes, she found herself fascinated with that emotion, how it didn't seem confined to him alone, how it held and comforted her.

Long before Chuck Bartowski said the words, Sarah Walker had realized he loved her. He didn't just want her. He actually loved her. Purely.

It was awhile later before she could admit to herself that she reciprocated.

She found herself wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up in his love.

But now, a week after they finally had gotten together, he had suddenly given her cause to doubt him.

It was bad enough that he had screwed up the mission with his jealousy, but to demean her, and their relationship, with his request?

She had never imagined him capable of such a thing, and now she didn't know what to do.

She felt a painful emptiness pull at her as she fell asleep alone for the first time in what seemed like forever.

________________________________________________________________________

Though in separate rooms, both Chuck and Sarah slept late into the morning.

Chuck had still been awake when Casey entered shortly after Sarah's exit. Casey had given him a warning glance then grabbed a blanket from the bed and laid out on the couch.

Chuck gave a dismayed sigh, but then worked on achieving unconsciousness.

When Casey finally woke him up, it was almost 11:30.

Chuck had asked if he could see Sarah, but apparently she had just left before he awakened.

Casey told him that she still needed some time to herself, that she'd be there this evening, and to not dare even _think_ about trying to talk to Casey about any of it.

The two of them spent the next few hours continuing to organize the information from the iPhone, ultimately making their report to Beckman. Casey didn't bring up Chuck's latest problem, and Chuck certainly wasn't about to mention it.

Unfortunately, the data was not especially helpful. It did identify a number of Fulcrum elders. Each one had already been found dead. Beckman wasn't overjoyed, but she said that at least they had confirmed that Greene was dirty, and her team in D.C. would do their best to follow him and see if he led them to anybody else over time, and to warn the agents about the Fulcrum mini-Intersect. She thanked both Casey and Chuck for their service, and didn't seem too annoyed that Walker wasn't there for the briefing.

Chuck took another nap in the afternoon, and then met up with Casey again for a light dinner in the hotel restaurant.

Chuck had spent the whole day worried about Sarah, of course. Worried that she'd call it quits. Worried that she wouldn't come back. Chuck thought that it was not a good sign in a relationship if you were often worried that the woman you loved might never come back.

As it happened, though, she did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Here it is, the final chapter of Part III. **

**Thank you all for your fine reviews. I was surprised and very relieved at the lack of flaming (so far). Those of you who had criticism were very polite about it. Again, thank you. **

**Please keep up the reviews!**

**Thanks to my wife and Anon for all their editing patience and goodness. **

**I've gotta get cracking on Part IV. Might be a little bit, but it WILL HAPPEN!**

**In the meantime, here we go. **

**Addendum: AAARRRGGGHHH!!!! Something happened during the document downloading process, and some of the things I put in italics were un-italicized AND it seems to have rearranged sentences! I'm going in to fix it. For those of you who read before the edit, this won't make sense, otherwise. Please let me know if something doesn't make sense. Thanks.**

**________________________________________________________________________**

At 8 p.m. Sarah walked into the hotel room.

Chuck greeted her, but didn't try to hug her though he wanted to.

Sarah returned the greeting, but she wasn't smiling. "Grab your coat," she said.

Chuck raised his eyebrows, his face a question.

She said, "If we're going to do this, we'd better start now. There'll be a lot of places to go to."

Chuck sadly said, "Sarah, if this is going to make you miserable-"

"It's going to make _both_ of us miserable," she interrupted. "Let's get it done so we can move on."

They knocked on Casey's door and explained. Casey was shocked to put it mildly, but he was also game.

"It should be fun to watch this experiment," he grinned.

Sarah said, "Good. You can have fun for both of us."

________________________________________________________________________

Some time after they were on their way, Casey asked, "So how many bars do we intend to hit?"

Chuck replied, "As many as we can until I either stop blanking out, or all of them close."

Sarah said nothing. She had been silent since they entered the car, letting the men make the plans.

Although they were taking one vehicle this time, Sarah would still enter and exit separately.

Chuck's job would be to observe Sarah in action for a half-hour once she had successfully engaged her mark. Assuming he had been able to remain conscious, he would then walk up and brush by her, as he was supposed to do with Greene, though in this case, a handoff would be unnecessary of course.

However, if Chuck were to blank out, Casey would escort him out of the establishment and back to the vehicle. Sarah would then find an excuse to exit, go back to the car, and they'd be off to the next place.

They intended to stay far away from Tavern Ameasus. Although Greene's profile indicated he only went there once a week, they didn't want to take chances. Additionally, they would go to places some distance from each other to minimize the chance of recurring contacts with patrons.

Chuck periodically stole wary glances at Sarah, terrified that he had pushed her too far. Part of him wondered if he should call this off, but she had agreed, and he had a feeling that trying to reopen the discussion would only antagonize her more. There was nothing to do but push forward at this point, and pray for success. He just hoped that this whole mess hadn't done irreparable damage to them.

They arrived at the first spot. Without a word, Sarah exited the vehicle and was on her way. It had begun.

________________________________________________________________________

**Take One:**

Chuck and Casey entered the bar to discover that Sarah had already located her mark. Apparently, she wanted to not waste any time. More likely, she wanted to get this distasteful adventure over with as soon as possible.

As they sat down at a booth with good line of sight, Chuck and Casey considered her choice. This guy was a jock type. Chiseled jaw. He rivaled Captain Awesome in handsomeness.

"Good choice," commented Casey.

Chuck muttered testily, "Y'know, if I am to have any hope of surviving this, you might want to ixnay on the cracks, OK?"

"Aw, you're no fun, Bartowski. Should I order you a drink or are you gonna be too stoned to enjoy it?"

Chuck didn't bother replying. He was staring at Sarah and her man. Chuck began to breathe deeply. Not anxiously, though. He had previously taken a breathing class. (He _did_ live in California, after all.)

_Breathe in through the nose. Let the life-giving oxygen gradually enter the top of your body, where it will spread out through your extremities, charging your every pore. From there, the energy will seep down until it reaches your feet, exiting to merge with the Earth below, before it rises back to you from the Earth, through the booth. I wonder if the energy is meant to go through a booth? Does the booth degrade the energy? What's a booth made of anyway besides foam?_Suddenly aware that he had been holding his breathing too long, Chuck exhaled it in a sharp gasp.

Casey looked at Chuck as if he were an extraterrestrial.

Chuck took another deep breath, and tried focusing his gaze back on Sarah and Jock Boy.

_OK, relax Chuck. Thi_s _kind of guy is clearly not her type. Yes, she's laughing and giving him that great big smile, and making eye contact with those exquisite blue… OK, stop. Breathe. Take a deep breath. There you go. This is not any problem at all. All right. She's putting her hand just a centimeter or two away from his. Ah, that's a touch, yes, it's a touch, I do confess it. There you go, Chuck, bring Shakespeare lines into this, that'll keep you calm. To be or not to be conscious while watching Sarah play footsies with a football player. Does he play football? I'll bet he_ _does._ _But it matters not, because, oh, did I say they were playing footsies? Because now they _are_ playing footsies. That's fine though, nothing at all wrong with a little footsies. See, this is fine. You're breathing, you're relaxed, and this isn't torture at all. See? I even said the word. Torture. Torture, tortur_e,_ torture. Not a problem. You can even sing it. Tor-tuuuurrreee... Torture, tort-_

Casey looked at the blank-faced, slightly grinning form of Chuck Bartowksi, and wondered if he could get Chuck to pee, by putting his hand in a bowl of warm water.

________________________________________________________________________

**Take Two: **

"Under no circumstances, whatsoever, are you to think of the word, 'Torture', you got that?"

"Great, Casey, now you've just ensured that no matter what I do, I'm going to have to think that word again and again."

This time, Sarah had picked a man so blonde, his hair was almost white.

_Ah, look at him. A nice perfect Aryan. They'll have the most beautiful babies, and she'll stay home to raise them, while he goes off to slaughter a few million Jews._

_What the Hell is wrong with me?_

_OK, Chuck, get it together, and just remember she is with you. Not the almost-Albino, there. He may look sophisticated and wear nice clothes and probably has an accent, but you are Chuck Bartowski, and you can do anything. All you have to do is believe in yourself. I can do this. I can so do this._

He couldn't do it.

________________________________________________________________________

**Take Three:** _  
_  
The failed attempt this time could not, in all fairness, be attributed to Chuck.

Sarah, having become extremely frustrated, suffered from a lapse of patience.

"Hi, you want to make out?" she asked the first man who sat next to her, in a voice that clearly couldn't be more disinterested.

The patron gulped and replied, "Um, sorry, I- I don't cheat on my wife."

The bartender leaned over the counter and said, "No soliciting, Lady. Move on, or I call a cop."

Sarah rolled her eyes, and stepped off the barstool.

She walked back to Chuck and Casey who both had their mouths dropped open.

Chuck said, "Well, that... that was-"

Sarah slammed her palms flat on the table. "Are you _actually_ going to say something?"

A wide-eyed Chuck shook his head very fast.

"Next place," she growled walking ahead to the exit.

Chuck and Casey followed at a distance.

________________________________________________________________________

**Take Four:**

Sarah seemed even more angry than she had been this entire evening, if that was possible, but when they exited the car for the next establishment, she turned to Chuck and her expression had become determined.

"Listen. You need to take deep breaths when you're in there. You need to focus on something relaxing."

Chuck shook his head. "I've tried that. I swear, I have tried that."

"Then try _harder_. If relaxing doesn't work, focus on the _mission_."

Casey casually said, "Focus on the fact that if you keep this up, Walker is gonna cut off your balls and stuff 'em down your throat."

Both Chuck and Sarah stopped cold and glared at Casey.

Well, Chuck kept glaring. A moment later, Sarah's angry frown gradually turned into the only real smile she had experienced this evening.

"Y'know what? That's a good idea! Thanks Casey!"

Without looking at Chuck, she turned back to walk toward the bar. She was whistling.

Both men watched her go, then Chuck began to glare at Casey again.

"You're welcome," said the Colonel. Then with a grin, he turned and followed Walker, whistling himself.

And then it was on.

Chuck focused on relaxing.

He focused on the mission.

He even focused on what he was doing to Sarah, and to what she might do to him.

To his credit, he lasted twenty minutes. His record for the evening.

As Casey escorted Chuck out, Sarah watched over the shoulder of her latest mark.

She didn't bother trying to keep up her smile.

"Hey, something wrong?" asked "What's-his-name".

She glanced back at him in surprise. She had forgotten he was there.

"Um, actually, I'm not feeling well. Sorry, but I think I need to go."

"Well, hey, why don't I see you home? I got some first aid experience."

"Thank you, but no." She grabbed her purse and walked out of the bar.

A moment later, "What's-his-name" was beside her, outside in the parking lot.

"Hey, Babe, no offense, but I don't take well to a woman hitting up on me for drinks then saying she's got a headache."

Sarah looked at him coolly, then reached into her purse, and pulled out a Twenty. "This should cover it," she said as she handed it to him.

"Nah, I don't think so," What's-his-name said. Then he grabbed Sarah's hand, and twisted it.

Sarah let out a gasp of pain. She must have been really out of it to let a person like this take her by surprise.

She gave him a smile that was actually tender. "Thank you," she said.

She then grabbed "What's-his-name's" head and smashed it into the hood of a nearby Volvo.

Twice.

After "What's-his-name" fell down unconscious, his face a shattered mess, Sarah began to walk away. She then stopped, considered a moment, and left the Twenty on his chest.

She walked back to the van, absently rubbing her wrist.

When she entered, Chuck had just woken up.

"Took you awhile," said Casey.

"I had a run-in with a guy who wouldn't take 'no'.

"Hm. He alive?"

"Yeah, I was merci-"

She stopped as her gaze happened on Chuck.

He was staring at her injured wrist, his eyes wide.

A second later those eyes began to flutter.

"Casey!"

Casey turned, and seeing, said, "Aw crap. Keep him in the van!"

Chuck's eyes returned to normalcy. But the next words he said were completely monotone.

"Where is he?"

Casey moved close to Chuck putting himself between the younger man and the exit.

Sarah quickly said, "I knocked him out, Chuck. You don't need to do anything. It is already taken care of. Do you understand me? Chuck?"

Slowly, Chuck's intense gaze diminished. His eyes went back to look at Sarah's hand.

"We're done," he said in a low voice.

Casey and Sarah looked at each other, then back at Chuck.

"What- what do you mean, Chuck?" she asked.

"The problem's solved. I'm not going to blank out again."

"How can you be sure?"

"I'm sure. As sure as I've ever been about anything. It will not happen again."

Casey rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then said, "I'm sorry, but that's not gonna cut it."

Sarah turned to the Colonel, "But-"

"No buts. As the kid said before, we can't test this during an actual mission."

Chuck said, "I don't want to put you through this again, Sarah."

She stared at him, then said, "You're sure it's fixed?"

"I'm sure."

She took his hands. "Then show me."

Slowly, Chuck nodded.

________________________________________________________________________

**Final Take:**

As they left the car, Casey turned to Sarah and said, "Don't hold back. We want to make sure this works."

Sarah looked at Chuck who said, "He's right."

She didn't hold back.

She found the most attractive man in the place. She seduced him using all the charm available to her. Twenty minutes later she had gotten the man to paw and kiss her very intensely. She gave back as good as she got.

Chuck watched the whole thing, his face sad but resolved.

Ten minutes after that, he brushed past her as planned.

Then, they went back to the hotel, all of them silent.

________________________________________________________________________

When they arrived at the hotel, Casey stopped Sarah for a moment before she could enter the room. Chuck hardly gave a glance at them, but walked in to the room, and closed the door.

"You OK?" Casey asked.

"I don't know," she replied.

"Do you need me to stay with him again?"

Sarah's smile was tired but grateful. "I think I'll be able to manage, but thank you."

She turned around, but was stopped when Casey spoke again.

"I don't know how you're going to pull this off. There's a reason you're not supposed to do this. You're doing it, anyway. I would never think of doing what you're doing." He paused, and just as Sarah thought he was done, he added, "More power to you." Then she heard him close the door.

She whispered to herself, "We'll need it."

When she came in, he wasn't in the main room.

She walked to the bathroom and opened the door.

Chuck was sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His face was downcast. Forlorn. His body was shaking a little.

Sarah stood in front of him. "Your plan worked," she said in a neutral voice.

Chuck said nothing. He didn't look at her.

Sarah said, "I guess the need to protect me from harm trumps jealousy, huh?"

He still didn't look up, but he said, "Sure. It protects you from anybody but me. I hurt you. Sarah, I hurt you." His voice was weak, hoarse.

She nodded. "You did."

"I can't make this better."

"'I'm sorry' is always a good place to start."

"Apologize for this? This is unforgivable."

"That isn't for you to decide, is it?"

She crouched down so she was on his level. She lifted his chin so their eyes could meet.

"Try," she whispered.

He seemed to be struggling, but he finally spoke. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did to you here. I'm sorry for all the times I've hurt you. I don't ever want to hurt you."

She shook her head.

"If only that could be avoided. But you don't want to hurt me. I know that. I know."

"Don't do this again?"

A sad smile slowly formed on his lips. He took a shaking breath. "This, specifically? I think that's a reasonable promise."

"Good."

She stood up, grabbed his hands and pulled him to stand.

She turned to leave the bathroom, when he asked, "Why are you staying?"

Sarah stopped.

_Because even you hurting me makes me feel alive._

_Because even when you screw up, you're the best man I know._

_Because I love you._

She turned around and looked at him.

"Because this is only our first fight since getting together. We're going to have to have a _lot_ more than this before we call it quits."

He sighed, nodding.

They brushed their teeth.

Sarah got into bed.

A minute later, she turned.

He was standing there at the foot of the bed, a question on his face.

She said, "You'd better get in here. One week, and I'm already having problems going to sleep unless you're holding me."

Chuck smiled. He got into bed.

Ten minutes after the light was turned off, Chuck was almost asleep when she said,

"I'm not perfect either, you know."

Chuck tightened his grip on her. "You could have fooled me."

She smiled.

They slept.


End file.
